


It's Complicated

by minsangthinker (peronazone)



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, Awkward Flirting, Biker!Yeosang, Drunken Flirting, Getting Together, M/M, Soft Boy (sorta) Mingi, Strangers to Lovers, Swearing, side seongjoong, this really went a long ways from the original idea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:15:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27449221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peronazone/pseuds/minsangthinker
Summary: Yeosang runs into mechanical issues with his motorcycle an hour before his next class. He's tried fixing it himself but he just can't figure it out and maybe he showed his frustration a little too openly because suddenly footsteps approach him from where he sits with his back against his bike, head resting on the seat, eyes up to the sky. A familiar face. A stranger he once saw at a party with red hair, a fishnet top, and a jean skirt over jeans. Quite a contrast to see him with honey blonde hair, glasses, and oversize striped sweater.
Relationships: Kang Yeosang/Song Mingi, Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 69





	It's Complicated

**Author's Note:**

> this was originally meant to be more of a,,, soft mingi with cool yeosang and mingi helping him repair his bike but then i wrote 2,000 words of college party exposition,, anyways uhh i hope you enjoy shjhsjsk

Lights.   
Music blasting over the speakers in a crowded room.  
Cheering when some frat boy chugs a bottle of whiskey unprompted and unnecessarily.

It’s never really been Yeosang’s scene but the drink he nurses in a tacky red solo cup is motivation enough to stay amidst the stress of college exams.

He needed to take his mind off of everything so here he is.

A regular old Hongjoong house party. The fashion major being in his junior year but already working in the industry put him in a position to buy a house of his own with his boyfriend.

It’s a nice place but even nicer when there’s not a party going on inside of it.

Yeosang isn’t as close with Hongjoong as most of the people here but he’s been friends with Seonghwa for years. When they started dating, Yeosang got to know Hongjoong in a way but he’s always had a hard time connecting with people. He’s never hung out with Hongjoong and his friends but has hung out with Seonghwa’s.

This is.. the first time he’s gone to one of Hongjoong’s parties.

The general heat in the room from all the drunk college students dancing and shouting over each other makes it uncomfortable. It’s his strongest observation about the environment and he takes the zipper edge of his leather jacket in his grasp to fan it out.

He’s been here for an hour, had his interactions with the people he recognized and those who recognized him, had a few drinks… but he hasn’t had a chance to greet the hosts.

A crowd of people tends to follow them at all time and he’s not about to put himself in the middle of that. No, no. He’s quite content to stay here in the kitchen on a stool with his back braced against the counter even as some straight couple makes out annoyingly loudly next to him.

He looks pointedly to his red solo cup; at the red liquid inside.  
This is the environment he has to go to for decent wine and a distraction on finals week?

One more loud liplock and he throws the drink back.

Oh, would you look at that!   
He needs another drink. 

Yeosang’s heavy boots thump down on the wood floor as he kicks himself off the stool. No need for formalities, not caring if he disturbed the happy couple. He walks right around the counter and picks up a whole bottle of the wine he was just drinking.

Seonghwa won’t care. 

The bottle hangs loose in his grasp as he makes his way through the crowd of bodies dancing up against each other. Brushes off those who try to cling to him with a simple shrug and dodges another couple making out on his path upstairs.

It’s quieter upstairs. Still noisy with people talking and music blaring but this section is reserved for mostly close friends. Or so he’s been told. He doesn’t know if Hongjoong considers him a close friend but Seonghwa said he could retreat up here if he started feeling uncomfortable.

The room at the top of the stairs is a sitting room with a few people but definitely less than downstairs. The sound of people talking on this floor mostly comes from the bedroom or the room Hongjoong turned into his studio. Rooms that happen to be across from each other with the doors slightly ajar.

He’s not here to socialize though.  
He finds an unoccupied armchair, plops himself down, and uncorks the bottle.

Now, he would be happy to just continue his night this way. Drinking wine and looking out the window at the night sky to the muffled sound of the party ongoing downstairs but a laugh draws his attention.

It’s a bright, bark of a laugh. High at its peak but deep in its tone.. followed by a deep voice proclaiming that they’re gonna get another drink.

The door creaks and that’s when he sees him.   
The music playing in the background filters into his mind.

_“You got me hypnotized. I'm feeling so obsessed with you.”_

  
  


Red hair styled up in a way that cascades over the left side of his forehead. He wears a black, long-sleeved mesh shirt over a sleeveless tank top of the same color. Decorated in jewelry and a pair of heavy boots that match his own. However, the part his eyes are drawn to the most is the jean half skirt he wears over top of a pair of jeans.

The way his hips swing in that skirt nearly put him in a trance. It’s like the world moves in slow motion as the man gives a heart-shaped smile to the room he’s just left— the studio, Yeosang thinks— and slips past the door out into the light of glowing red fairy lights on the wall beside him.

Slow-motion still as the man’s head shifts in his direction. Looking straight on at him.

It’s like there’s glitter in his eyelashes the way they sparkle in the lighting. He’s frozen in his spot with the wine bottle in his hand halfway up to his lips. Staring he realizes. He lowers the wine bottle but he feels like he’s moving through molasses.

_“You've left me paralyzed. And now I'm stuck,”_

  
  


Yeosang feels the eyes on him more than he actually sees them. They aren’t the only two in the room by far but it feels like that. It’s strange. He’s never met this man before but he is filled with this overwhelming urge to know him more. To read him like a book and be apart of his story at the same time.

Is that strange?  
He’s never thought that way about someone.

A shiver runs along his spine suddenly as the other looks him up and down. The goofy smile replaced with a look of thought and his tongue slipping past his lips for a moment to wet them. Why is he paying attention to that? Why are his lips so nice?

Those lips turn into a smirk and Yeosang’s heart almost stops beating.

Some worry in the back of his mind wonders if he’s drunk enough to be saying his thoughts out loud but he knows from sober friends keeping an eye on him that it rarely happens. It’s always the times when he forgets a lot of the night that he gets told he just said whatever came to mind. He felt buzzed only a couple of minutes ago so the only stage he’s at in drunk would be… drunk.

Though attempts to remember how he gets at this stage of drunk avoid him. His leg bounces with anxiety but nothing betrays him in expression. It’s a skill he’s acquired through the years. No matter what his state of mind, he can hold a passive expression for a remarkable amount of time.

He wonders how he looks right now. Sitting in this armchair across the room, his leather jacket half off a shoulder and his legs splayed out before him. It’s not often that he feels like a stereotypical model for a main interest of his but he feels like he would look embarrassingly like a movie trope biker in this moment.

His mind it running at a mile a minute to the point that he barely noticed the other’s approach. Long legs taking him swooping the distance across the room…

A movement and suddenly the man is sitting across his lap, legs draping over one of the armrests as he leans back against the other and brings an arm around Yeosang’s shoulder. A voice in his ear. “Can you spare some of that bottle for me?”

_“You've got me stuck. Hmmm—uh”_

It’s that weird feeling of recalling memories through a haze.

The rest of the night was a blur but not in the means of being too drunk to remember. The memories are hazy because his mind barely makes sense of it. How an attractive individual can spot him across the room and boldly take to flirting for the night. How the man only kept eyes on him. How their lips fit so perfectly together even though the mix of wine on both of their tongues. The makeout session they had on that chair before someone in the room gave a holler.

He had, truly, forgotten they had company at all. Still in a daze as the other man hauled him up and pulled them into the upstairs bathroom across the way. He vaguely remembers people cheering them on and that experience is surreal enough on his own.

He remembers his back hitting the wood of the door. Remembers thinking about how tall the other was and how he hadn't realized there was such a height difference. 

Then lips were on his again. And he was a good kisser.

He remembers the world shifting as he was lifted up. His legs wrapping around the other man's torso and that laughter again. He must've made a funny expression or something in reaction to the suddenness but he doesn't recall. He just remembers how beautiful that laugh was and wanting to hear it again. 

Swooping his hands up to comb into the other man's hair to pull him in closer so he can trail ticklish kisses along his neck and the side of his face. Beaming at the giggles he got as a reaction and the way his head tilted so easily into the gentle combing in his hair.

Yeosang is typically not one for hookups and that remains the case. They kissed, maybe left a hickey or two, but he remembers talking.

Strange position to talk about a bunch of random things. One person holding the other up against a door in a house party bathroom, the other koala-d on their front... both being strangers to each other. But that's what he remembers. It's embarrassing the length of time he went on rambling about his interests and he doesn't even remember what he was talking about.

The whole situation was strange and.. he never even got the other man's name.

In the back of his mind, he knows he could ask Hongjoong about him but he doesn't dare. He worries the man wanted a hookup but instead got a socially awkward biker rambling in his arms. It doesn't help that he doesn't remember if the other man ever talked about his interests. He doesn't remember their conversation at all though. Just that he talked forever and drank the whole bottle of wine with him.

So, he could ask Hongjoong.  
But Yeosang... is dramatic.

Above all else, he remembers the hangover the day after. The pain in his feet from walking home in his boots.

He couldn't ride his bike back to his apartment being drunk and all so he just let Seonghwa know before he left that he'd be picking it up the next day. Even through his hangover, he did that. In clothes way more comfortable than his leather jacket and leather pants. He had nobody to impress there who wasn't in the same state as him.

Morning conversation over much-needed coffee with the couple gave him some recall of the events that night and brought the embarrassment back in full swing.

But he didn't bring it up to them. Didn't ask the man's name. Didn't ask how they knew him.  
He doesn't know why.

If someone they trusted enough to be up their showed interest in him, he should be happy, right? His friends would already approve and trust that person so they must be a good person. It's just.. strange. It's not the way he imagined meeting his partner. It's not the way he could ever picture it.

Parties simply are not Yeosang's scene.

That's how he rationalizes it. Better than thinking it's all him stressing over how the stranger has seen the rambly side of himself he only shows to his friends. He decided he wasn't going to think about it. 

And he didn't.

For several months.

The thoughts of the man always lingered in the back of his mind but classes took him away from that. He'd find himself thinking about that red-haired stranger. Snapping to attention in a crowded space thinking he caught a glimpse of his hair. Glancing up from studying in the library at every sound of the door opening to see if one of them would be that mysterious stranger. He tried not to think about him. He really did. But he's stubborn enough to not actively search for him.

Aside from, y'know, stalking the hashtags occasionally added to posts about Hongjoong's parties. To see if he was spotted in one of them, mentioned by name in the caption, tagged in the image to redirect to his account so he could stalk that, at least find out his name without having to ask anyone. 

It didn't really work. The man was elusive and, if he was anything like Hongjoong's friends, probably dyes his hair constantly so there was no way he was going to find him on hair color alone. It's not like he was any better though. His sense of style remains the same with leather jackets or all black but he's grown his hair out into a mullet. Cut by Hongjoong himself. Learning later in the exact same style Hongjoong once had his hair— people kept coming up to him thinking he was Hongjoong when he was wearing a mask out.

Looking for that stranger became a pattern. His life mostly the same but something missing and thoughts lingering.

He was highly considering going to more of Hongjoong's parties to find him but he couldn't work up the urge to put himself out there on the chance that the stranger he met happens to be there. Not wanting to risk anything but also worrying about what would happen if he did meet him there.

He needed a push. Something to put him in the right direction of finding this stranger again.

Then that fateful day hit.  
His bike sputtering to a slow stop halfway to his next and final class of the day. 

"Are... you kidding me?"

He mutters out softly to the air.

The people who are around are those just walking around campus to their classes. It's mostly people in a rush who don't pay him any mind as he rides his motorcycle to its stopping point next to the grass at the edge of the road. He stomps the kickstand down with the heel of his boot and swings his legs over to stand on the grass beside the bike. He's still got his helmet on. No point to take it off if it's an easy problem he can solve.

Spoiler alert.

It isn't.

It's with frustration that he takes his helmet off and hangs it on the handlebar. Brushing his hair out of the way of his eyes, unzipping his jacket for more freedom of motion. It's been a while since he had something like this happen. His bike is pretty reliable and he can usually tell when a problem will occur to it before it becomes an issue. There were no signs to show that it would do this today. The only tools he has with him are the small ones to fix really simple problems like adjust the handlebars or adjust the seat height. He typically only does that when he lets his friends take the bike for a spin so it's rare and far between.

Easily, he could just walk to class.

Leave his bike here and not be late.

But, honestly, he cares more about his bike than some class he still has excused absences for. If he misses that class, it just means he can go home earlier and that's always a plus.

Problem is that this particular problem is something that he can't figure out. There's an hour until his class is supposed to start but the things he's done to try and figure out what is wrong with his bike are taking him nowhere. He's cussed to the air, had some looks thrown his way, but no advice really. It's fair. Who on this college campus would randomly know how to fix a motorbike? 

It's twenty minutes into his struggle that he really realizes he's going nowhere. He rolls the sleeve of tiny tools up and sets it down on the ground with a drawn-out groan. Swipes a gloved hand over his face, leaves that hand there for a moment as he peers at the bike with one eye. Crouched on the ground before the bike like he's going to propose to it. An arm across the leg he has propped up supports the arm of the hand on his face. A statue, in how still he remains in that position just staring at the workings of his bike like some solution will just jump out of the mechanics at him.

He should probably just call someone. Someone with a truck he can load his bike into the back of and get a ride to his class while he's at it. That would be the responsible thing to do.

But he has and always will be... a stubborn individual.

For this, he blames a lack of motivation to sit in another lecture hall he won't really pay attention to. He blames that for the way he turns himself around, sits down in the grass, and leans back against his bike. A leg is drawn up, a leg out straight on the ground. An arm, thrown across his face and covering his eyes. The other arm slung loosely across his midsection. His head, falling back on the seat with his face to the sky. 

Yeosang could just sleep here. It's not the most uncomfortable position he's ever slept in.

.

.

.

It's hot.

It's really hot.

The sun shines down on him with a scorching fury. He knows that if he moves his arm away, the sun will shine right in his eyes. So, he doesn't move his arm but he taps his foot anxiously. What time is it? Shouldn't the sun fall lower in the sky at some point soon? It's not near sunset but the sun shouldn't be as directly above him as it feels right now.

With his eyes shut, he slides his arm across his face and pinches the bridge of his nose. He read somewhere that the action is supposed to relieve stress. He doesn't know if that's true but it's a habit he picked up anyways.

"Everything okay?"

"The sun is a fucking nightmare."

An impulsive response.

Followed by a realization that someone asked him a question and he answered with the first thing on his mind. The realization that someone is near enough to him that he didn't notice there before.

It's not that he springs into motion immediately upon the realization. It's more that his eyes shoot open and his arm lifts off his face by a centimeter in just the right way to shine the light of the sun directly into his eyes causing a full-body reaction making his hands jerk up over his eyes and his legs to draw in. He sits like that for a moment and then just sighs. His hands rise up to his hair as if he can play off that reaction at all. He knows that he can't.

He hears the laugh more so than he sees it. His eyes are still shut but that laugh... it's familiar.

Familiar in a way he's been thinking about for a while. Familiar in a way he may or may not have written songs nobody will ever hear about. Familiar in a way he's sketched drawings of instead of focusing on class.

But this couldn't... 

This couldn't be the way he meets that person again... right?

Still, a small part of him expects— hopes!!— to see that red-haired man that has plagued his mind for months when he finally opens his eyes.

Needless to say, he's rather surprised but what he does see.

A tall man crouched before him in a purple and red striped sweater with sleeves that fall over his hands. Black, loose jeans with a few rips in them to match with small holes in the sweater. Sneakers instead of boots. Where Yeosang expects to see red hair, he is met with a fluffy mess of honey blonde. Eyes, falling down to a pair of wireframe glasses balanced lightly on the bridge of his nose. His eyes aren't on Yeosang. They're down to his hands as he adjusts his sleeves to stick his thumb through a cut hole in the sleeve of his sweater like a makeshift glove.

The energy is different. But when the man finally looks up at him... his eyes widen for a moment in surprise like he hadn't realized he was done with his little fright. Like he hadn't expected to be acknowledged. Then soften with a shy smile and a duck of his head.

It's the smile that gets Yeosang. That's the smile he remembers. 

The laugh.. the smile... Faces are a bit of a blur for him but he's nearly certain. This is the mysterious man he's been missing.

"Sorry, uh.."

He pauses to give a small chuckle and shuffle his sleeves a bit.

"You seemed like you were having trouble with your bike..?" 

Yeosang's brows furrow. He didn't notice him around when he was working on the bike earlier.

"How could you...-" He trails off.

The stranger before him looks confused. Then he seems to realize and Yeosang shouldn't find the way his eyes light up adorable but he's thinking it. Loudly.

"I was in class just.. ah! Over there and I saw you through the window."

The way he pauses mid-sentence to look around and find the window on the building behind him and point it out exactly to show. Turns his eyes back with a sweetness that contrasts their first meeting entirely. It's surprising. It takes Yeosang off-guard and he doesn't know how to respond but stare in awe. Is this a twin situation? It's never a twin situation in reality.. that's only in the movies. That's how he should think but he's honestly considering it. There is no way this is the same person.

"Oh."

Wise words, Yeosang.

He internally scolds himself for not going on to say more but he doesn't know what to say. His foot starts tapping again. It's a nervous habit. He bites his lip and wracks his mind for something— ANYTHING— to say.

"Hey, um.."

The stranger saves him from himself by speaking up. Looking about as nervous as he feels. He gestures to the bike.

"I can.. help you fix that if that's okay with you..?"

Huh?

"My bike?"

"Yeah!"

"Do.."

Yeosang takes a pause. The eagerness with which he said it throws him off. He doesn't look like someone who rides a motorcycle to college. Dressed too comfortably and in items that the wind could tear. It's not practical ride-wear but.. for some reason he has trouble doubting this man can fix a motorbike. He's been surprised enough times today.

"Do you know how to do that?"

He asks anyways, genuinely curious how he'll answer as he moves aside and unfurls the tools he tried using himself earlier.

"Yeah, no problem! My dad's a mechanic so I kind of.. picked up a few things."

It's like he's waiting for more of an elaboration on that but it doesn't come. Instead, the stranger moves closer and crouches down in the grass in the position Yeosang once was with a sideways glance in his direction. As if checking to make sure it's okay before he smiles slightly and gets a closer look at the bike. 

Staring at him feels weird so Yeosang sort of turns his eyes to the window he said he saw him from. He wonders if many people noticed his mechanical issues. Wonders if people noticed his growing frustration with the bike or even recorded it. It's not something he likes to think about so he turns his eyes to the stranger again to find him looking at him.

The man bites his lip but doesn't avert his gaze. Awkwardly hovering his hand on or away from the bike before decidedly holding that hand out in Yeosang's direction.

"Mingi. Uh.. by the way. That's.. my name."

Mingi... That's.. a name he's heard before actually. Hongjoong has brought him up a few times as a rapper he works with sometimes on the music he does on the side. As a friend that he goes shopping with because their sense of fashion is similar. It's not something he's paid attention to much before but hearing that name again... he recognizes it.

Then he realizes he only was staring at his hand as he went through this realization process so he takes the hand and gives it a shake hoping his own hands aren't clammy.

"Yeosang. It's nice to meet you.."

"We've met."

It's those simple words that stop him cold.

It's not a twin situation.

_It's him._

And _he remembers._

Initial panic? There's plenty of it but he's still holding his hand and, honestly, that's terrifying at this moment.

He releases his hand and just sort of lets out an 'ah' and a laugh like he can play it off cooly. No idea why he always resorts to this. He knows he can't play it off and never will.

A part of him wants to ask. In the off-chance that they have met properly before outside of that one party. It would still be embarrassing to think he met him before and forgot him while Mingi remembers him but it's somehow more comforting a thought than the alternative. Yet he can't work up the nerve to do so.

They fall into silence as Mingi pokes around in his bike. Eyes darting in his direction every-so-often as if he has words to say but is waiting for Yeosang to say something. He clears his throat slightly, snapping Yeosang out of his thoughts.

"Can I..."

Mingi trails off, his eyes falling to Yeosang's hands.

Does.. does he want to hold his hand? Have they dropped from the level of making out at a college party to holding hands like middle schoolers? He's confused and it must show on his face because Mingi chuckles quietly.

"Can I wear your gloves? Some of the metal is hot from sitting in the sun and..."

"Oh! Oh, yeah, of course, sorry."

Flush on his cheeks, his own thoughts put into his mind this idea that he wanted to hold hands.. betraying him and rationality as a whole. He quickly unstraps his gloves and pulls them off to hand to Mingi. He shouldn't say brushing fingertips with Mingi sends his heart beating fast but it does.

He doesn't know what to do with his hands. Holds them sort of clasped together in his lap. At some point, he sat crisscrossed in the grass next to Mingi and facing him as he faces the bike.

Mingi works in silence with incredible focus. His tongue sticking past the corner of his lip in some moments when it seems like something he's doing requires slightly more effort. His brows furrowed lightly, a bite to his lip... him pushing his glasses up with the back of a hand clothed in Yeosang's gloves. Yeosang finds himself thinking about what it would look like to see Mingi in some of his other clothes. They have different body types but his hoodies probably would fit on him perfectly...

"I think I figured out what the problem is."

That he's crushing hard on a guy whose name he's met twice and name he's just learned? Yeah, that could be a problem.

"Oh, really? What's up?"

Yeosang shifts closer to look where Mingi's looking.

Mingi glances over at Yeosang and then sits down from his crouched position into the same crisscrossed position as Yeosang. Leaning to the side so Yeosang can look closer though Yeosang doesn't know if he'd dare. The shining smile on Mingi's face though... that encourages him. 

"You see this part here? Dangling loosely, kind of scratched up? It's not supposed to be like that. It's meant to be attached to this. So, my theory is that this tubing here came loose and didn't get the gas in the tank into the system. I've never worked on a motorcycle before though so I can't say for sure. It's an easy temporary solution, just needs to be put back in place and the parts that hold it there tightened so that you can ride it safely back to where you need to. Very temporary though. I wouldn't recommend continuing to ride with this issue ongoing because your bike could continue breaking down and stranding you places. You're lucky it stranded you near campus instead of on the road in the middle of traffic."

For someone who claims he doesn't work on motorcycles, he certainly notices details that an experienced rider missed. Yeosang with his eyes wide go from Mingi to the bike and he leans closer to Mingi's hand to look at the part he's holding. Leaning back with a whistle.

"Damn, I... I should've noticed that."

Mingi barks out a laugh, his head thrown back a bit. His hands don't leave the parts and he tries to contain his laughs so he can focus on doing the work he said he was gonna do. It's adorable. The laughs that shake his body and break out in giggles.

"It's no big deal! It's easy to pass over because you don't expect the problem to be so tiny. Typically you'd look to the bigger parts of the bike to check. It's harder to look at the tinier details so it's often left for last."

That's a fair assessment.

It also applies in the case of Mingi. He's been looking at the bigger picture revolving around him that he hadn't noticed the little beauty mark on his face. The deep brown of his eyes and the way they disappear when he laughs into crescents. The lack of piercings on his ears but the ear cuffs he wears clutching gently on.

"Can I give you my number?"

Neither of them expected the words that left Yeosang's mouth so suddenly.

Mingi's hands slip and there's a creaking noise as the wrench he was using to tighten the bolt holding the pipe in place loosens the work he already did the tighten it. He looks to Yeosang with wide, bright eyes. Mouth agape.

"I mean, you- you don't have to give me your number or anything I just want you to have mine- if that's okay and- and you don't have to text more or anything but or even take it but I just.."

"I want to kiss you so bad right now."

Yeosang stops dead in his tracks. He's wondering if his mind is playing tricks on him but Mingi's eyes are glittering with amusement. He lets out a small laugh of his own.

"Really?"

It's like he's afraid to ask if Mingi is being genuine. He speaks with hope and a smile on his lips because, somehow, looking at Mingi, he can't help but smile. 

And then Mingi just nods with a quiet laugh.

"Do you have any idea how long I've been looking for you?"

This is surreal. Mingi smirks. Tilts his head at Yeosang's lack of response and gives a hard motion with the tools in his hand to secure the part of his bike back into place so that he can give Yeosang his full attention. Turning in his spot and brushing gloved hands off on his pants.

"I knew your name. Seonghwa told me.. you'd be there. I wasn't specifically— !! Hunting you down or anything.. I.. he told me about you and I thought you seemed like a really cool person so I wanted him to let me know if there was ever an opportunity to meet you and then.. it happened."

He shuffles his hands shyly in Yeosang's gloves.

"I..." Mingi chuckles nervously and starts taking the gloves off. "I didn't know that.. um..."

"That we'd end up making out in the bathroom?"

Mingi's eyes shoot up and Yeosang lets out a laugh. 

"Yeah.. I didn't expect that! I just.. have always been a.. flirty drunk? So you caught me at an interesting time and then you.. started talking about your passions while in my arms... and I could see myself apart of your dreams and.. I don't know! I couldn't stop thinking about it."

It's a surprise. A moment he didn't expect to be remembered was so important to him. A moment he didn't even remember exactly himself. Him, rambling like a kid at a candy store held such significance that he...

"You remember what I said?"

"Of course I do! The way you talked about pursuing music... being in a creative field and going against the wishes of your family.. building up a dream under their noses while in a general major. I thought it was incredible."

Oh... that's what he talked about? He talked about that to a stranger when he's been doing so well keeping that secret from his family?

"You also told me that you loved my voice and wanted a sample of me whispering."

That sounds more accurate.

Yeosang ducks his head with a shy laugh and picks up the gloves that Mingi set down by his side. It's an excuse to get closer to him. 

"What if I still want that sample?"

He mutters quietly. He dares to say. Mingi's smile glows and he leans closer as well.

"I'd say put me in a studio and I'll whisper into a mic for as long as your heart desires."

There's flirtation in his tone. He's flirting back. He's leaning in. Mingi's forehead rests against his and his eyes flick down to his lips. They laugh quietly at each other. 

"Good answer."

Honestly… What took him so long to get to this point? The amount of time wasted when he could’ve been going on dates or spending time with him.

Yeosang makes a decision at that moment.

No holding back. No hesitating.

Eyes flitting to Mingi’s lips, to his eyes.

They should take it slow. They should get to know each other better. Talk more, learn more. But Yeosang has always been stubborn. They’ll have time to talk. Time to date. Time to bond and connect. And this is one of those moments so he damn well is going to make it a good one.

So, he crosses the distance. Fits his lips like a puzzle with Mingi’s. Basks in the way Mingi is quick to react. A hand rising to cup the side of his face and hum with joy. The sound of that hum is enough to get Yeosang’s giggles to break the kiss.

What are they going to tell their friends? The way they met… the way they started dating… how they even knew each other?

  
 _“It’s… complicated._ ”


End file.
